Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1887-01-13

OF philosophers comm01 known as
'tranps.' Warsham ha frequently
met him. Sometimes the tavern
bar-room in the village sometimes
stumbling upon him, h5pg in the
brooks. sometimes findin him asleep
in the shade. He had poken with
him but little, but had al him down
in his own mind as one d bose harm
less ne'er-do-wells, coInnp to every
rural community.
1--WE been q lookisl III YER" re-
psated the man.
$50 you said before. " relied Ware
ham, lazily blowing vranh ofsmoke
>Anto the air, well
"The folks over to the tavern sent
me ter hunt fur ys. I told 'em
thought ye was down this way, near
the old mill. Ginsrally be, amt YEP"
What do they want OF me at the
tavern ?" asked Dick. shortly.
wall, yer hoss is in trouble. Got
throwed in her stall, an broke her
leg"
Warsham jumped to his feet instant
ly.
What I" he exclaimed. "Bess, my
poor Bees? How could it have hap
pened ?"
Dunno. Guess they'll hey to shoot
her. They're only waiting for you ter
come ter gin the order"
Poor, poor Bsss |" repeated Dick,
lsaping over the fence, and tossing the
man a coin. I'm much obliged to
you, my man. for your trouble. Come
with me. You may be of service"
avail, you 60 right on. an I'll fol-
low. I've got rheumatic in my leg,
an hev to walk slow"
Wareham started off at brisk pace,
and the other followed. limping slow
ly. No sooner had Dick disappeared
over the hill, however, than the man 8
manner instantly changed. His pain
full lameness disappeared, a sudden
energy took possession of his limbs.
and. turning quickly shout, he walk
ed briskly in the opposite direction;
not toward the village, but directly
toward Morse's mill.
Morse's mill stood in a hollow along
the hills. where the high-rosd, taking
a sharp curve to the east. passed di-
rectly across the dam. Weather
beaten and moss-grown, it was a most
picturesque adjunct to the landscape.
The portion of the building fronting
the south was occupied by the mil
ler as a dwelling. Here, with his
daughter, just budding into woman
hood. Abner Morse had lived for
many years. Popular belief gave him
the character of miser. 1t was i'm
possible, SO the villagers argued, that
a man with so small family to feed
and clothe, and with so good trade
as Abner Morse, could be otherwise
than rich. The common belief in his
wealth was strengthened by the pre-
cautions taken to guard the building
against marauders. The only door
was of oak, iron bound and riveted.
The windows were barred with iron.
Was it to guard his money, the peo-
pie wondered, or his pretty daughter,
that these precautions were taken ?
1t could scarcely have been for the
latter reason, for Dolly was in no way
restricted Of her liberty. This sunny
Summer morning che sat in the open
doorway, knitting q stocking of snow
white yarn, AS she sat there,
framed as in picture, against the
dark background of the interior, she
could scarcely have appeared. under
any circumstances, more attractive to
the passer-by. Her cheeks glowed
with the hue of youthful health; the
warm sunlight lay upon her light
brown hair; her red lips were Parted
in absorbing interest in her occupa-
tion; tiny, slippered foot p-otruded
from beneath her gown. All in all.
she formed most bewitching part of
the scene which greeted the eyes Of
the ragged man as he turned the corn
sr in the road, and came in 81. ht of
Morse's mill.
"Ah, James, is that your asked
Dolly, looking up with pleasa Mt
smile, as the man paused before the
door.
Yes, it's me, Jim Billin's' replied
the other, doggedly. All alone, n,
yer
Yes. Fathers gone away
Il know it. Net him on the road
Going to be gone lOngF
No. He has only gone to the vii
lage. He will be at home this after
noon. You can see him then. If YOU